Not Like I Love You
by scabberssucks
Summary: Hermione is reunited with a lost love on the night before her wedding.


A/N: This is a short fic I wrote about the night before Hermione's wedding. This would never happen, but it was kinda fun to think about. ENJOY!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Harry Potter...I only made up this plot.  
  
A breeze passed through the open window beside the bed, chilling her as the satin sheets clung to her body. She shivered and her teeth chattered slightly as she inched closer to his body next to her. His skin was warm and smooth, and wanting to feel it, she kissed it softly. He stirred and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer still.  
"You're cold." It was a statement, not a question. His words caused another involuntary shiver to pass through her, and he pulled the blankets tighter around her. She settled her head below his chin, her body fitting into his perfectly. She wanted to melt into him, to be connected to him forever. She didn't want to think about losing him...what the next day would bring.  
He seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Hermione," he said softly. "It's not the end, you know."  
She clenched her teeth hard, willing the tears she could feel forming behind her eyes to evaporate. "How do you know?"  
"I feel it," he replied. "It won't end like this...it won't end."  
"How can you be so sure?" she asked, her voice cracking. "Anything could happen...I may never see you again."  
He sat up, bringing her with him. He took her chin and gently turned her face to look at him. "I love you," he said. "Nothing is going to change that; that won't ever end."  
"But-," she began, but he kissed her into silence. She bit her lip when he pulled back and the tears pooled in her eyes.  
"No one can change how I feel about you," he said, his eyes sincere and serious. "Not my father, not Voldemort. They can keep us apart for now, but it won't change a thing. I'll always love you...they can't stop it; I don't even think I could if I wanted to." He kissed her forehead and she let the threatening tears fall. "I promise you, it will never go away."  
"I love you, too," she whispered; it was all she could muster. She didn't know how to put what this was doing to her into words; all she could do was cry.  
"It's not the end," he said again, pulling her to him. "I promise we'll see each other again. I will come back for you...just wait. I'll come back..." ***********************************************************************  
I had never seen so many people in the Three Broomsticks. There were at least sixty people filling the tables and chairs, and their voices and laughter echoed throughout the entire building. Usually, rehearsal dinners consist of the wedding party and the family of the bride and groom; ours was no different, except that unlike most grooms, mine had an unusually large family. The majority of the people filling the small pub had the same flaming red hair as my fiancée, while my family varied with blonde and brown. There was only one person there with black hair, and just then he was chatting animatedly with Charlie Weasley.  
"Could I have your attention?"  
I turned and smiled at the owner of the voice that had silenced the pub. Ron was standing up on a chair and I laughed to myself as his head brushed the ceiling. I wasn't sure why he thought he needed the chair; he towered over everyone anyway.  
"We're going to be serving dinner in a few minutes, so if you could take your seats, it would really help." He grinned a little sheepishly, and his cheeks flushed a tinge of pink. "Thanks."  
I walked back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before dinner. I knew I was going to have to say something and being thirsty wasn't going to help. I filled a paper cup and drank, but didn't swallow. I was about to, but suddenly I felt fingers jab into either sides of my ribs and I spit the water all over the counter.  
"Ron!" I cried, spinning to face him. "Look what you made me do!"  
He was laughing, and I threw a towel in his face. "Since you think it's so funny, you can clean it up."  
Instead of wiping up the water, he set the towel on the counter and grabbed my waist, pulling me towards him. I grinned in spite of myself and he kissed me as I wrapped my arms around him. He smiled down at me.  
"Just think," he said, his eyes glittering mischievously. "By this time tomorrow, you'll be my old lady."  
I scowled and pulled away. "I'll never be anyone's old lady," I replied scornfully. "I hope that's not what you told your family. I could just see it. 'I finally convinced Hermione to become my old lady.'" I stuck out my tongue in disgust.  
Ron grinned and kissed my forehead. "You know I'm kidding," he said. He looked over my shoulder at the door to the front of the pub. "We should probably get out there. They can't really start without us."  
"Ok...but I need to throw this cup out first. Where's the trash?" I looked around the small kitchen, but I couldn't find one.  
"I'm not sure," Ron replied, frowning slightly. "But I know there's one out back. Just come up front when you're done." He kissed me quickly, and then went back to the dining room.  
I walked out the backdoor of the pub, glancing around for the trash before I saw it leaning against another wall. I walked over and threw the cup in. I turned to walk back inside when something in the shadow of a tree caught my eye. I stopped and squinted before realizing it was a person; a man.  
"Who's there?" I called apprehensively. I backed towards the door slowly; I couldn't tell who it was and I preferred not to find out alone.  
"Hermione."  
It was a statement, not a question. I knew that tone, that confident assurance...and I knew that voice. I had longed to hear just a whisper of it since I had last heard it. I didn't say anything but just stared as the man moved out of the shadows. My breath caught as I took him in. I hadn't seen him since I was 18, four years earlier, and he did look different, but I knew instantly who he was. His hair was longer and his shoulders broader; I thought he might be taller, too. His skin, which used to be so white, was now nicely tanned. He wasn't in robes, but in faded jeans and a brown tee shirt. Yet it was him, right in front of me, just as I had always dreamed of...and feared.  
"Draco," I said, looking straight into his silvery eyes. My voice caught me by surprise; I hadn't spoken that name in so long.  
He gave me a small smile. "How've you been, Hermione?"  
"Engaged," I replied without thinking. I instantly wanted to reach out and grab the word from the air before he heard it. I hadn't meant to say it, but it had been pounding in my head and it needed to be let out.  
His eyes were sad, but they didn't look surprised. He nodded. "I know; I heard when I came back." He frowned. "You're marrying Weasley."  
"His name is Ron," I said. "And yes, we're getting married. Tomorrow," I added.  
Draco nodded again. "I know," he said. "I did my homework."  
I didn't know what to say to him. There he was, right in front of me, and I suddenly couldn't form the words to say all the things I'd been holding inside of me for the past four years. Instead I made small talk.  
"How long have you been back?" I asked.  
"Nearly two weeks," he replied. "I would have come to see you sooner, but I didn't know where you were...or what you had been doing."  
We stood and looked at each other for a long time. He looked pained as he stood there, and I wondered why he had come if he'd known about Ron and me.  
"Why are you here, Draco?" I asked.  
"I wanted to see you," he replied, as though it should have been obvious. "I wanted to talk."  
"Hermione?" Ron's voice called from inside. "Sweetie, are you coming? Everyone's waiting on you."  
Draco quickly stepped back into the shadows, and I leaned over the trash as though I were looking for something.  
"Hey," Ron said, walking outside. "You ok?"  
"Oh, yeah," I replied, laughing nervously as I stood back up. I fiddled with my ear. "One of my earrings fell in the trash. I had to dig it out."  
"Did you find it?" he asked, walking towards me.  
"Yes," I replied. "Yes, it fell all the way to the bottom."  
"Good," he replied. "Let's go in then, I'm starving."  
I followed him to the door, but he didn't notice that I didn't follow him in. I turned back and saw that Draco was in the light again.  
"Meet me back here tonight at 11," I whispered to him. "We can talk then." Without waiting for an answer, I walked back inside. I didn't need confirmation; I knew he'd be there. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Later that night, after an uncomfortable dinner, I left my apartment and went back to the Three Broomsticks. He was there, in the back, waiting under the tree. He stood as I walked towards him.  
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.  
"Not here," I replied. "We could be seen."  
"Do you live alone?" he asked.  
I nodded. Ron was moving into my apartment after our honeymoon.  
"Could we go there?" he asked. "I've been staying in a boarding house, and I don't really want to go back there with you."  
"Yeah, my place is fine," I replied. After all, we were only going to talk. Nothing else would happen. Nothing else, Hermione I told myself as we started back to my place. I was getting married the next day and I wasn't about to jeopardize that...or so I wanted to think.  
When we got to my apartment, I let Draco in, and then flipped on the lights. He glanced around and I saw his eyes stop on the picture of Ron and me on my bookshelf.  
"Do you want something to drink?" I asked, wanting to divert his attention.  
"Some water would be great," he said, still looking at the picture.  
"You can sit down if you'd like," I told him, looking over my shoulder as I filled his glass.  
He walked over to the couch and sat down, now watching me. I brought him the glass and sat next to him. We didn't say anything for a minute; I wasn't sure what to say. All this time there had been so many things I'd wanted to tell him, but I didn't even know where to start.  
"I've missed you," Draco said, setting his glass on the coffee table.  
  
I nodded, looking away from him. "I missed you, too." I paused, then decided to ask him a question I had thought about every day since he'd left. "Where have you been?"  
He looked away from me. "My father took me away that day...after I last saw you. I was forced to join the Death Eaters."  
I had suspected that was what had happened, but it didn't seem to add up. "The Death Eaters are all either dead or in Azkaban," I said. "Why are you free?"  
"I didn't want to be with them," he said. I had known that, but he had said he joined them. "I went along with what they said, but I kept in contact with Dumbledore all along. It was risky, but Voldemort never found out...well, not until it was too late."  
"You spied for Dumbledore?" That thought had never crossed my mind. I had been in contact with him as well, but he had never mentioned Draco.  
He nodded. "Yes; I was almost caught a few times, but I always managed to lie my way out of it."  
I bit my lip as a thought struck me. I didn't know if I should say anything to him about it, but he brought it up before I got a chance.  
"I didn't kill anyone," he said quietly. "Voldemort wanted to send me out with the Order Hunters, but my father asked him not to. My mother worried and my father seemed to think I was still too young."  
"So what did you do for them?" I asked.  
"Not a whole lot," he replied, laughing a bit. "All I really did was fuck them over. Of course, they didn't know that at the time. They thought I was helping to track down members of the Order, when I was a member right under their noses. I fed them false information and led them everywhere except where they needed to look. By the time Voldemort figured out what was going on, it was far too late. I managed to escape with Dumbledore's help."  
I stared at him. I had never realized he had been a member of the Order. I suspected that only Dumbledore had known, because neither Harry nor Ron had ever mentioned Draco.  
"But that was two years ago," I said. "The war's been over for two years. Where were you?" I felt my throat tighten. "Why didn't you come back?"  
He took my hand and squeezed it. "I couldn't; not then. There were still Death Eaters loose, and they all wanted my neck. It wasn't safe."  
"I didn't know where you were," I said, fighting back tears. "Why didn't you contact me? For all I knew, you had died."  
"It wasn't safe, Hermione," he said, moving closer to me on the couch. "If I had contacted you, the Death Eaters could have intercepted it and it could have put you in danger. I couldn't bear the thought of them hurting you."  
"I waited," I whispered. "I waited for you to come back. Everyday I'd wait for a knock at the door, or an owl, or something...any whisper of you. But it never came..." I trailed off, staring at the wall.  
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't want to put you in danger."  
"I understand," I said. "If only I'd known."  
He had a pleading look in his eyes as he took my hand. "I never stopped thinking of you, Hermione. Sometimes you were all that pulled me through. Whenever I thought of giving in, of throwing my efforts away and giving Voldemort what he wanted, the thought of you was what stopped me." He paused, his silvery eyes piercing my own brown ones. "You were the ultimate goal for me...coming home to you was all I wanted. Want; it's all I want."  
I began to cry then, letting the tears pour down my cheeks as I looked into his eyes. All of the emotions I had felt those past fours years came exploding to the surface, and I instantly felt as though my regret was overflowing and drowning me in my own body. "I'm so sorry, Draco," I whispered. "I didn't know."  
"But Hermione, you know now," he said, squeezing my hands as I sobbed. "Please don't cry, Love," he whispered, putting his face in my hair. "It's all right now, we can be together. We'll leave, just you and me. It's all okay—"  
"No," I sobbed. "Draco, I can't." I pulled back from him and looked at his face, which looked disappointed, but not surprised. "I'm getting married tomorrow; Ron and I are getting married."  
Draco looked at me for a long time, and this time I didn't look away. My eyes still overflowed with tears, but my expression was determined; I wasn't leaving Ron.  
"Do you love him?"  
I hadn't expected that question; obviously if I was marrying Ron, I loved him. Yet as I looked at Draco, I knew the truth and I knew what my heart wanted. My voice cracked as I answered him.  
"Not like I love you."  
He kissed me then, and instead of stopping him, I melted into him; melted into the memories, the familiarity of it all, the love I had felt for him and still felt. I kissed him back, relishing the feeling of his lips on mine; I remembered how I had thought I'd never experience that feeling again. It was a rush to the head and I was dizzy when he pulled back.  
"Hermione," he murmured, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed. He brushed his lips softly across mine, and I caught them, pulling him into another kiss. Suddenly, nothing mattered; not Ron, not the wedding, not the vows I would be taking the next day. Nothing mattered except that moment, and Draco's mouth on mine. His fingertips ran against my cheek and I kissed him more hungrily. Draco suddenly pulled away.  
"Hermione, we shouldn't—"  
"Don't ruin it," I whispered urgently. I knew what he was going to say, but I pushed it out of my mind. I had waited four years for this and I wasn't going to let anything take it away from me when I was this close. I didn't care about anything else; I wanted him.  
My words seemed to give him the permission he wanted, and he reached around to my lower back and pulled me closer so I was against him. He kissed me harder as he eased me back on the couch. I pulled him onto me and wrapped my arms around him as memories flooded back; memories of sleepless nights in his room, nights filled with passion I had never felt with Ron. I had clung to those memories as I clung to Draco now.  
His lips left mine and moved down my cheek to my neck. He feathered light kisses all the way down to my collarbone, and then he moved down my body, lifting my shirt to expose my stomach. He alternated his lips and tongue as he moved back up, pulling my shirt up further as he went. I lifted my arms and let him take it off completely. He threw it on the coffee table, barely missing his glass of water. He moved back down me, kissing this time the tops of my breasts. I held my breath as he unclasped the front of my bra, then leaned in to lick at my nipples. I gasped and moaned, and I felt him grow hard against my leg. I reached down and pulled up his shirt, running my hands along his bare back. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned and tanned body. I pulled him back down on me, feeling his skin against mine as I kissed him again, this time deeply and passionately. I kissed his neck and his shoulders, causing his breathing to grow deeper. He pressed himself against me and I knew what he wanted; it was the same thing I had been wanting since I had last seen him. I reached down and fiddled with the snap of his jeans. When they were undone, I slid them down off his hips, his boxers coming off with them. He stood and took them off, and I couldn't help but stare at his naked body. He bent down and gently undid my pants, slipping them off my legs, and then we were both naked. He looked at me, lying on the couch, for a few moments, then brought his eyes up to meet mine. I smiled, and he came back to the couch, positioning himself between my bare legs. I moaned at the feeling of his hot skin on mine.  
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispered, kissing my neck again.  
"Yes," I replied, my voice sure. "More than anything."  
He kissed my lips and moved himself against me. I groaned and thrust my hips to meet his. He teased me, letting himself get so close, and then pulling away.  
"Please Draco," I gasped, "Please."  
He thrust into me then, and I nearly came with the feeling of it. I moaned loudly and grabbed him from behind, pulling him deeper into me. He thrust harder and held me tightly as we found our rhythm. Everything matched, even our breaths, and I remembered what this had been like. I had never had anything like this with anyone else. His body fit mine like no one else's. I wanted to stay this way; I didn't ever want this moment to end. I briefly thought of Ron, but pushed him out of my head. He didn't matter then; only Draco and I mattered. Everything else had ceased to exist. We moved together, moaning and gasping, and I arched my back as I came. He groaned and thrust hard as he came just after me.  
We stayed there like that for a long time afterwards. I held him tight to me and he kissed my shoulders, my neck, my face, everything. I ran my fingers up and down his back, kissing him too. I did all I could to take him in; I wanted to remember every inch of him, every sensation and kiss. I knew I would treasure it, and I also knew I wouldn't get another chance. Tears filled my eyes again, but I didn't let them fall. I didn't want to ruin it.  
"Hermione," he murmured into my hair. "I should go."  
I bit my lip and nodded as he kissed my neck again. "Okay," I whispered, desperately holding back the tears.  
He pulled out and stood up. I took one last look at his body as he pulled on his boxers. I sat up slowly and put my clothes back on too. He helped me off the couch and pulled me to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he held me tight. Burying my face in his chest, I let out a small sob. He held me tighter still and kissed the top of my head.  
"Don't cry," he whispered. "It's not the end."  
I looked up at him. "How can you say that?" I asked, shaking my head. "I'm marrying Ron tomorrow. It has to be the end."  
"You said it yourself...you don't love him like you love me. That's not going to go away." He cupped my chin and kissed me softly. "Just because we aren't together doesn't mean I don't love you...or that you don't love me."  
"I do love you," I said quietly. "I always will."  
"I know," he said, smiling sadly. "That's why it'll never be the end." He kissed me again, this time deeper. I took it in, storing it to memory...they way his lips felt on my, the heat. I wanted to cry out when he pulled back. He tucked my hair back behind my ear.  
"Do you want to dance?"  
I was surprised and I hesitated. It was the last thing I had expected him to say. "Um, sure," I replied. Then I smiled. "Yes, I'd love to."  
Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at my muggle stereo. It started playing immediately...Desiree's "Kissing You." It had been ours. He held his hand out to me and I took it, moving to him. He kissed me as we began to sway to the music. I lost myself in it, knowing these were my last moments with him. On the last chorus, he kissed me softly on the lips, then stepped back and, still holding my hand, twirled me. I spun, my hair flying out around me. I was smiling when I stopped, but it faltered, and then, just as he had, my smile disappeared; he had disapparated. I looked around frantically, hoping I was wrong, but Draco was nowhere to be found. I sunk down onto the couch, stunned. He hadn't even said good-bye. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
The next day, in front of our family and friends, Ron and I said our vows and became husband and wife. I meant them when I said them. I was going to stay faithful to him from that day forth. What had happened the night before was over, and Ron was my life now. We kissed that day, and I haven't kissed anyone else since. I love Ron...I really do. But I don't regret the night I had with Draco; I've never looked back.  
I saw Draco once more, though it hardly counts because he wasn't even there. It was two years after mine and Ron's wedding, and Draco was in a casket. One of the surviving Death Eaters had finally found him. I went to the funeral with Ron, Harry, Ginny, and my daughter Eva. I held her tightly through the service, and I only let two tears slide down my cheeks. Ron didn't notice. When we passed the casket on the way out, I couldn't bring myself to look; I was determined to remember him as he had been that last night.  
It's been four years now since Draco died, and I still think of him every day. I'm happy with Ron and our three children. I'm lucky that my mother is very blonde, because otherwise, little Eva may have given away my secret. She's a sharp contrast to her little sister and brother, with their flaming red hair. Sometimes, as I watch Ron tickle Eva on the floor, her white blonde head of curls thrown back as she giggles, her gray eyes alight with happiness, I wonder what it would be like if she had been raised, not as a Weasley, but as the blood pumping in her veins entitled her to be; as a Malfoy. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
So that's it...a bit fluffy, I know, but I'm a bonafide fluff lover. Please read and review!! 


End file.
